


Bloodstains

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Blood, Child Abuse, Gen, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4986574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian, Jason, and Dick investigate a murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodstains

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, it's a little bit violent.

“Caucasian woman, mid-thirties, multiple stab wounds in the chest area— there’s—” Grayson looked up from his recorder long enough to survey the scene in front of them. “There’s a lot of blood.”  
There was. Damian had seen his fair share of bodies, but this one was enough to throw him. He had to step away from the puddle of blood sliding towards his boots. The edge of his cape brushed against the ground and stained red— he pulled it aside in disgust.  
The rest of the apartment seemed abandoned. Damian followed Todd across the living room, into an empty kitchen where the stove was still lit underneath a pan of something that was bubbling lightly. It couldn’t have been left for long. Todd flicked off the switch and it settled back into the bottom of the pot, hissing. There was a small sound from behind them.  
“Hood.” Damian motioned to a hallway across the apartment— there was a child standing on the carpet, a girl, maybe six or seven. She had tears running down her face and a blanket bunched around one of her fists. She didn’t seem to want to leave the shadows of the hall— she just stood on the edge, watching them, crying silently. Todd took a few steps toward her and knelt down on the tile.  
“Hey,” he said. “Are you hurt?”  
The girl shook her head.  
“Do you know who that lady is?”  
She nodded. “That’s my mom.”  
“I’m so sorry.” He reached up slowly and pulled his helmet away from his face, setting it on the floor. “Is there anybody else here? Do you have a dad?”  
She shook her head again and took a step forward, halfway into the light. Damian watched her eyes as she looked across the apartment floor, stained with her mother’s blood. She began to shake slightly.  
“She won’t talk to me anymore,” the girl whispered. “She won’t…”  
“It’ll be okay,” Todd told her. “I promise. We’ll find someplace for you to go, okay? Don’t worry.”  
“Hood,” Damian muttered again. There was something— He didn’t know. But—  
“She won’t yell at me anymore.”  
“ _Hood_.”  
“Don’t think about that, alright? You’ll be fine. Can you come over here?”  
She took another step forward.  
“You’re safe now. I promise.”  
“Yes,” the girl agreed. “Safe.” Another step. “She can’t hurt me anymore. Safe.”  
“Wait—” Todd had his arms extended, but he pulled them back. “What do you—?”  
The girl took one more step forward, and she was out in the light— there was blood spattered across the front of her nightgown. “I’m safe now.” Under the living room lamps, Damian could see bruises across her neck. “It’s over.”  
“Oh god,” Todd whispered. “Grayson! Call the cops.”  
The girl didn’t like that. Her face turned red underneath her tears. “No!” she screamed— she raised her blanket hand and pointed it at Todd accusingly— “No police! No!” The fabric parted, exposing the blade of a carving knife, glittering red under the lamplight. “Get away from me!” She ran back down the hallway, leaving Todd kneeling on the floor.  
“I’ve got it,” Damian told him, and he followed the girl into the shadows. Her footprints had stained the carpet dark, down to the end and an open doorway. The girl was standing in the threshold.  
“No.” She told him. “No no no no no more no more no—” She was tiny. She was stained red. There was blood everywhere. “Please! She can’t hurt me anymore!”  
“You’re right.” Damian stopped halfway down the hall, out of her reach. “She can’t. You’re okay now.”  
“I don’t want—”  
“I know,” Damian told her. “Believe me, I know. It’s okay. You need to follow me now. No police. We can go see Batman instead.”  
He backed away from her, towards the kitchen. She hesitated.  
“I just don’t want her to hurt me…”  
“She won’t. She’s gone now.”  
“You…?”  
“I understand.” Damian held out a hand. “Can I have your knife? We need to leave. You’re safe.”  
“Safe,” she whispered. “Okay.” He backed farther down the hallway, and she followed, muttering under her breath.  
“No more please no more I don’t want— safe now— no more yelling—”  
“It’s okay,” he repeated. “You’re fine. You can leave now.” They reached the end of the hallway and he backed into the light, beckoning her forward. Grayson and Todd stood in the kitchen, watching them.  
“Come on,” Damian told her. “We can go see Batman. You’re okay.”  
She was back at the edge of the hallway again, hovering in the shadows. “I can’t—”  
“Yes you can.” He took a step towards her, hand extended for the knife. “You know who I am, right? I’ll make sure you’re safe.” Another step. She was crying again, tears streaming from blank eyes. It was hard for him to look.  
“You’re almost there,” he told her. “You’re almost—” He took one last step toward her, and everything went very wrong.  
“No!” She lunged at him, knife flashing, and he was too surprised to duck— the blade sank into his side and he fell back onto the kitchen floor. She was screaming— Todd tackled her while Grayson wrestled her knife away. Damian sat on the ground, clutching the hole in his stomach while Todd dragged her out the door, yelling as she went. Grayson bent over him, concerned.  
“Robin! Are you okay?”  
“Yes,” Damian told him. Yes, he was fine. The girl—  
“Did she hit you?”  
“No.” Damian didn’t quite know why he was lying. Grayson ran out the apartment.  
He didn’t remember much after that— just a blur of images. Police station, rooftops, kitchen table. Hand pressed into his side. Blood on his boots, his cape, his shirt. Girl with blank eyes. Drake sitting down beside him.  
“Hey. Dick told me what happened. Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine.”  
“I just thought… since it was her mother…” Drake pulled away the napkin he was drawing on: stained nightdress, footprints on kitchen tile, a woman with dark hair, swinging a sword. “I guess that answers my question.”  
Damian crumpled his napkin in his fist, and it came away bloody.  
“You’re bleeding?”  
“It’s not mine.”  
“Yes it is.”  
He didn’t want to talk to Drake. Damian slid off the bench and out of the door, through the house and down into the cave. He set his mask on the table. He just wanted to be alone.  
He rubbed at his chest, willing the pain down to his side, where it ought to be.  
There were footsteps behind him. “Damian?” It was his father coming down the stairs, cowl pulled back and face pressed into worry lines. “Tim said you were hurt.”  
Damian made a mental note to punch Drake squarely in the face the next time he saw him. What part of angrily storming away did he not understand?  
“I’m fine.”  
“Are you sure?” Batman stopped directly in front of him, gazing down. He had a long way to look; Damian felt very small. He felt— he didn’t know.  
“I’m—” His chest hurt. That meant something, didn’t it? He was tired, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore, so he sat down on the floor instead. His father crouched down beside him.  
“Damian. Are you okay?”  
Fine. Damian shook his head and pulled aside his cape, showing his father the stab wound— Batman sighed softly, extending a hand down to investigate. “Okay. Come on.”  
Damian tried to stand up, but he staggered— his vision was going fuzzy. Blood loss, he figured. He almost fell, so Bruce scooped him up instead, easily swinging him onto his own chest. That was good, Damian thought. He felt better.  
Damian buried his head in his father’s shoulder and clung on as tightly as he could.


End file.
